Back to my usual sunny self

So, after last weeks miserable post by me I am happy to report that things have got better.  Woohoo I hear you cry!!  I gave myself a stern talking too, with finger wagging and everything and a couple of verbal slaps and with a good nights sleep things are right at rain again.

Positive Thing No.1

Stella & Francesca helped.  They visited last Friday.  I had considered cancelling it originally as I didn't want to bring their moods down with my wallowing but decided it would be a good, positive thing, which it was, plus I always want to see me girlies!
They stopped by to take me out to lunch.  Stella is one of the 'girlies' and Fran is her 8 year old daughter.  They'd be holidaying with Stell's parents in the Lake District and were heading back to Essex so stopped for a few hours.
We went off to Battery Park, a cafe in Chorlton, and very Chorlton it turned out to be.  I chose that end of town as we would have to be able to park nearby so I didn't have to take the wheelchair, and across the road is the Chorlton Mall car-park.  It wasn't far for me to walk across the main road.  Fran & I had bagels with cream cheese, mine with smoked salmon and Fran's with ham.  Stelli had a feta cheese & roasted veg sarnie.  It was nice enough food and the company was exceptional, not sure I'd rush back a second time though!

Stella & Fran gave me a lovely birthday present too while they were here.  Back at the beginning of the year when they'd visited & before my knee op she'd taken me to B&Q to get some bits n bobs and one of those was a kit to grow chillies.  She'd remembered I said I would like to grow some veg of my own.  So I got an easy to erect 3 tiered 'greenhouse', 5 packets of seeds and a couple of propagator trays.  Such an ace pressie.  Time eventually came for them to head home to lovely Essex and after cuddles on the door step, off they set.

Positive Thing No.2

After getting into a tizz at the college on enrolling day and letting the receptionists attitude get to me, we were going to catch the bus the following day and go back with the financial forms.  However on reflection I needed to leave it a couple of days so I could get the memory of last week out of my minds eye.  It worked a treat and because we still didn't have the car back, Hari caught the bus down there on Tuesday and took everything in for me.  Enrollment completed, just wait to hear now but as the website & the tutor both say I am ok for funding, I'm not overly worried about it.  And am now allowing myself to get excited about future prospects - woohooo!

Positive Thing No.3

The car is back! The car is back!!  Yesterday I had a doctors appointment, during which I had to wait an hour in the waiting room as the locum was, in the words of the receptionist 'using more than her allocated 10 minutes per patient' and had run over time.  I don't normally have more than a 5 minute wait so I wasn't too bothered.  Hari had wheeled me up there in the chair, dodging crap pavements and deposited me in the waiting room.  He then went to Morrisons for a few bits and popped into the garage to see what was occuring car wise.  When he got back to the doctors I was still sat sitting there waiting, he was smiling, this was a good sign!  He said there were 2 actually mechanics working on the car when he turned up.   Imagine that?!  2 ACTUAL mechanics!!  So, we remained hopeful and sure enough today it came back to us!  Woohoooo!  And the bill wasn't as much as we'd feared either although it was still more than enough!!  I haven't dared drive the car today, I've just enjoyed looking out of the living room window and seeing it there - sad I know....

I have a chiropody appointment tomorrow so will drive it there and back, so.... fingers crossed!!!

Happy lies & Chocolate teapots

It's been a very difficult week what with one thing and another.  Lots and lots of little things have conspired together and against me to make coping with everything as a whole really tricky.

Firstly I have no car.  It went BANG! eleven days ago now and it's still at the garage.  I don't mind that, obviously they're working on it.  What I do mind, however is them constantly saying every time I phone up "we'll keep you informed, don't worry" and then not hearing a peep out of them.
Being without my car is awful.  I am totally trapped.  I cannot walk to my local shop as its too far for me to walk.  I'm having to rely on Hari again for everything which I hate.  I have been offered help by some lovely people locally and I thank them for it but it's the having to rely on people that.  We've decided that we're finally going to get a motobility car with my DLA but we can't get out to garages to look/order a car until mine is back.  We've got this shed to put up but can't get the paving slabs for the floor so we can put it up until the car is back.  It's causing so many problems, and a lot of frustration for me being stuck here in the house.

Secondly, I went to enrol yesterday at a local College on a course I want to go on for Business Administration (Medical) which will get me the AMSPAR qualification, so I can get a decent job and get back into the work place.

Just as a little bit of background - after my failed ESA hearing at the start of the year I was refused entry to the ESA Support Group and told I had to stay on the ESA Work Related Activity Group, for people with illnesses that will improve.  Just for the record, Spina Bifida DOES NOT improve with age, despite what the biaised judges & doctors who work for the Department of Work and Pensions say - more Happy Lies.  I was given a document after the decision which clearly states -

"Mrs G P Singh remains entitled to Employment & Support Allowance ("ESA") with the work-related activity component but is not entitled to ESA with the support component"

However, on giving this document to the girl on the desk at the College, she informed me that I wasn't on ESA.  Oh well then, if she says so that must be true, right?  Despite my experiences, my disability, my court hearing and the sodding piece of paper she had in her hands (which incidentally is a legal document), but 'computer says no'.  More frustration and anger to contend with.

According to that court ruling, I am not in need of long-term help because of illness/disability and have to actively seek work and to make sure I do that they took the benefit section of the ESA from me, reducing our income by £90 a week.  So, having reluctantly accepted their decision - because there is no way you can beat the big boys and the bullying tactics of this government- here I was trying to do something for myself to improve my prospects of getting back to work, so I will no longer be considered one of life's scroungers, despite the fact I have never scrounged anything in my life.  And here I was again having to tell a complete stranger, who is neither interested or nor cares about my situation my bloody life story again and to top it off, I am standing in the reception area of a college with all sorts of other people around me listening to my story.  I did my best but did not cry until we left the building.

So today as I am car less, as Hari is working and we have no spare cash for taxi's, I had to cancel my appointment with the chocolate teapot which is the disablement employment officer at the jobcentre.  As I have said previously, the lady herself is lovely, but the job title which Job CentrePlus have dreamt up is of no use what-so-ever which is why I refer to it as a chocolate teapot.  So, feeling that going with a positive approach was probably better than an unpositive one, I apologised for having to cancel and asked if it was possible to be sent on a couple of course, an ECDL/Clait and an RSA2.  She told me the RSA one wasn't possible but yes the ECDL should be.  Great, so can she refer me to somewhere to take that then?  Not unless she sees me.  Yes but I can't get there as I've explained and anyway you saw me 3 weeks ago, there's nothing new to see?!  No, I'm afraid I have to see you, how is the 20th September?  Great so again here I am trying to do things to improve my chances of work and getting fobbed off by the person supplied by the government to help me get to work as they think I'm a shirker.  Happy, happy lies.

Yesterday I shut myself away in the bedroom and placed in front of me on the bed all my medication.  All in all I had over 70 tablets.  I thought about what it would be like to stop fighting ill-health, bureaucracy, stop feeling like a total & utter failure.

But life is good and after a couple of hours alone to cry and think and think some more I decided to move forward.  When those dark days get you, they really get you.  It would be lovely to feel in control of my life again.  I've never been totally in control of my body but I've known where its at, but my life is mine to do what I feel fit with but I no longer feel like I know what to do with it as everything I think of, everywhere I turn I get a brick wall.

All I want is a job, something I can do and do well, something I'll enjoy and get my teeth into, but at the moment it feels like no-one is going to take that chance on me.

Once you are ill and cannot work through no fault of your own; once you have to rely on the state to help you get sorted and get back to where you should be for the benefit of yourself and your well being, and therefore for your community and the larger world as a whole, you will find that there is no-one there who really, truly wants to help you.

All these government initiatives, its all happy lies, they don't want to help you at all but they want to be seen to be doing the right thing which really is going round in pointless circles and making chocolate teapots.  Trust me, I've seen it.

Tomorrow you could be in need of some serious help from your community and it won't be there for you, so think on.

Adventures with the girls - Part Two - Greece & Spain

In 2000, Karen found that she couldn't come away with us sadly.  However Stella was very interested in joining us and after a trip to the travel agent in Dunmow we were booked to go to Zakynthos, a Greek island in the Aegan sea.
Our resort was to be Amoudi.  I'd never been to Greece before and this holiday was to start my love affair with the country off.  Mel said to me as we got on the transfer coach and set off out of the airport that there was just 'something' about Greece and you couldn't help but love it.  I saw the pot-holed roads, the half built houses and thought Mel must be bonkers but by the time we got to the apartments and I'd seen the views, the sparkling blue sea, the incredibly lush greenery and tree after tree after tree laden with oranges, lemons and olives I was hooked.

The we'd arrived had been gloriously hot & sunny and we'd spent it sunbathing round the pool.  There didn't seem to be much around our apartments, we'd been told there was a restaurant down the road but other than that and our apartments, which included a bar/snack bar called The Amoudi Grill, that seemed to be it.  Our room balcony looked out over the pool and just over the sea in the near distance was the island of Kefalonia.
The second day we woke up to driving rain and cloud.  We could barely see the swimming pool for the mist let alone gorgeous Kefalonia!  We were, as always upbeat and were sure it would clear up in our usual 'it'll be fine' manner.  So we breakfasted on the balcony as we do on girlie holidays, just not normally in mist & drizzle and each of us wrapped in a blanket.

Later in the day, after trying not to let the weather get to us, we attended the welcome meeting and booked ourselves onto a coach trip round the island tomorrow and a bbq at the Amoudi grill tomorrow night, then Mel & Stella ran to the shops to get supplies, dodging the raindrops but failing miserably.  After playing dominoes and drinking wine on the balcony it was off to the bar in the evening to drown our sorrows.

The next day dawned pretty miserably, we knew this as Mel flung open the curtains, shut them again and stomped off to bed "still raining then" Stella muttered from under her bed covers. It was a cloudy, miserable looking day but at least it wasn't raining but Kefalonia still wasn't visible.  We went on the coach tour of the island, it wasn't stunning but it killed some grey day time.
In the evening we headed off in the rain to the Amoudi Grill for the quiz & bbq night, at least we didn't have to go far just a mad dash round the swimming pool.  The bar had all its plastic side walls down to keep out the wind & rain!
Needless to say, to numb the pain of the atrocious weather we took full advantage of the carafes of homemade wines and by the end of the quiz (we were the sheep team and had to say "baaaaaaaaaaa" if we wanted to answer!) we were preeeee-ty legless AND after Mel was thrust forward in the decider of Greek dancing, we eventually came THIRD and won a bottle of retsina.

The following day, our fourth day was gorgeous so we made the most of the glorious sunshine and sunbathed round the pool all day, enjoying Amstel hour at 5pm when oddly all the British holiday makers went in for their 'tea', which amused all of us - those silly old Brits!
We took full advantage of the empty pool though and had a fab couple of hours getting a bit squiffy.

The following day Stella & Mel went off to Zante town to do some shopping, I stayed in Amoudi where I spent time in the pool, sunbathing, reading and sleeping - bliss.  They came back with backlava - Hurrah for Baklava!  The next day we all went off to Zante town and got souvenirs.  I bought a huge white, embroidered Greek tablecloth (which I still have) and I actually had a go at haggling.  I struck a bargain too.  It wasn't until I wandered away from the stall with my bartered goods safely in my bag to a giggling Stella that she told me I had paid a few more drachma than it actually cost.  That was my first and only time of trying bartering!!
We all bought a bit of Greek pottery too, I got a large blue dish, which I still have and everytime I use it, it reminds me of the fun we had in Zante.
The last day was spent sunbathing, swimming & eating Achillion Special ice-creams and was followed by having a very drunken evening in the bar where we had a paddle in the kiddies pool and a good old laugh with Spiro & Roberto, wishing them a fond farewell.

Our one incident of crisis & adversity happened as we were on the transfer coach on our way to the airport.  As we rounded a corner on a back road, the coach ground to a sudden halt.  A tree was lying across the road, a digger which had come out to move the tree had also keeled over and there were a load of old stereo-typical Greek fellas standing around the scene, fags hanging off their bottom lips, scratching their heads and shrugging their shoulders in that way Greeks do.  You gotta love the Greeks!

Eventually, after more men had appeared across fields to stand around and ponder another digger arrived to push its fallen colleague & tree out of the way and we were off to the airport to the dulcet tones of our rep, a Manchester lad.

Menorca - 2001

Come 2001 the girlie holidays were going strong and Mel, me & Stella booked the 4th one to Punta Prima in Menorca.
Despite priming the travel agent when we booked it that we wanted the usual things; no steep hills, bar at the apartments, accessible etc we found ourselves in an apartment complex up the steepest of hills and in an apartment up steps, not the best start.  On arrival we noticed as well as the apartment being damp it was also a 1 bedroom when we'd booked a 2 bedroomed, we didn't bother unpacking and the next day after complaining we were moved even further up the hill to apartment no.1!

 That's our apartment riiiiiight at the top!

Punta Prima was a windsurfing resort and true enough the winds whistled up the hill which made sunbathing near impossible.  Although it was sunny that whistling wind brought the temperatures down quite considerably - brrrrrrrr.
The restaurants down on the harbour served something called "Fried baby squitlings" so we steered clear of those.  When we did eat out we found that the restaurant staff had a definate clocking off time and we frequently found ourselves sitting in Nora's bar, or as we called it Ignora's Bar, at around 11pm with staff putting chairs up on tables and mopping the floor around us!  It became a battle of wills by the end of the holiday, we were not going til we were ready!
And worst of all the bar at the apartments closed at 11pm so there was no usual nightcap for us.

 Stella & Mel in the 'hip & happening' apartments bar!

As well as exploring Punta Prima and chilling at the apartment we caught the little train one day to a small resort up the coast called Binibecca.

The Binibecca Express

We also visited the capital of the island, Mahon one day and we hired a car and Stella took us on a whistle stop tour of the island - Binibecca, Sant Lluis, Alaior, the base of El Toro, Es Mercadal, stopped at some factory shops & parked up in Cuitadella.  Here we had tapas for lunch and Stella & I got a henna tattoo each in the market square.

         

From Cuitadella we drove to Ferreries & Es Mercadal, then a very bad coast road to Cap de Cavalleria (the most northern point of the island), going past goats with square eyes to the lighthouse.  Stopped later in El Pescador at a fabbie seafood restaurant.  Drove back to Punta Prima via Mahon & Sant Lluis.

On our last night we went to a restaurant we'd used the first night and had garlic mayonnaise (which originated in Mahon!), it was soooo garlicky that it seeped out of our pores for days!  And we even managed to get back to the apartment bar for baileys & coffee before the shutters were slammed down and we sat there, just the 3 of us!!  How we laughed!!

On the last day we decided to drink the bottle of bubbly Bazza had given us in Duton Hill on our departure.  We mixed it with orange juice and with Stella having found a suntrap up the side of the apartment on the last day we had a tipsy sunbathe with no suncream.  Stella insisted we didn't use the sun protection as if we got any colour it would cover the chilblains up!  As you may imagine we went home with very strange patterns of ouchy sunburn!

Peter was waiting for us back at the pub with a Welcome Home banner!

Adventures with the girls - Part One - Tenerife-ey

The inaugural girlie holiday was in May 1998 to the resort of Los Gigantes on Tenerife.

Karen had been to the Apartmentos Poblado in Los Gigantes a few months before with Al, a resident of Duton Hill and a guy she'd been seeing.  She thought it was perfect for our first girlie holiday so she booked it and we paid her our share.
We were supposed to fly out on the evening of Friday 9th May but on arriving at Stansted airport our flight wasn't showing on any screens "this does not bode well" were the immortal words uttered by Karen, and she was right.  Due to a technical fault our plane hadn't returned from Tenerife and wouldn't until the early hours of tomorrow.  It was terribly disappointing as I had almost made myself sick with excitement and now we had to go home and come back tomorrow.
However, the good thing with living 10 minutes from the airport meant we didn't have to find a hotel, we just got a cab back to Duton Hill.  The look of panic on Derek's face when the taxi pulled up outside the pub was priceless (and almost worth the delay!), he looked panicked thinking he'd got shut of me for a week.  He came rushing out, shoved £60 in my hand and told us to go into Dunmow and have a meal, so we off loaded our suitcases and didn't give him a second thought as we went off for a slap up meal in Kim's, the Chinese in Dunmow. Cheers!

Early the next day we were back at the airport and this time all was well, and we flew out of Stansted on time and landed in Tenerife late morning.  Karen had organised a hire-car and drove us to the resort.  We had a very speedy look round the apartment (which over-looked the harbour & gorgeous blue sea), opened our cases, changed into cossies, or in Karen's case a banana-skin doubling as a thong, (honestly, I had never seen anything so small!),  grabbed sarongs & suncream and headed over the road to the pool where we stayed for the next few hours!

The next day we sunbathed again around the pool.  Karen told me to put suncream on everything including the soles of my feet, she reckoned that as I couldn't feel the bottoms of my feet I wouldn't know if they were getting hot so putting cream on them would stop them burning, it sounded like a good plan to me so I  slapped it on.
A while later Mel and I headed round the fixed gravel path surrounding the pool and got in to cool off.  I lay on my back and floated along, staring at the gorgeous blue sky listening to the kids playing and people laughing, imagining the cocktails when Mel suddenly screamed "Jesus Christ Gill.  What have you done to your feet?!" I splashed & flailed about trying to get up and on close inspection there appeared to be no skin on the soles of both my feet!
The suncream & heat must have softened the skin and the walk on the gravel had rubbed the skin clean off.  Mel looked horrified, Karen came running and they both hoiked me out of the pool and bought a Spanish first-aider over to see me.
As I can't feel my feet (as has been mentioned), it didn't hurt and I found the whole situation and the amount of flappery that Mel & Karen were doing quite comical, Karen just gave me a withering look.  The lovely Spanish man patched me up and gave me some dressings and that was that.  I hobbled off arm in arm with the others in search of much needed cocktails!


The next couple of days were taken up with shopping, lazing and eating, and this was when I discovered my absolute love for garlic prawns!  We went on a drive up to Mount Teide and also on a dolphin watching trip out at sea, where the crew took a bit of a shine to Karen and let her drive the boat (she didn't really but she doesn't know that!!)

On our last night we got very, very drunk as we celebrated Karen's impending divorce with champagne!  Once we were back at the apartment found ourselves chasing cockroaches in a comedy manner and launching them over the balcony (there were lots of cockroaches on this holiday), we must have been making an absolute racket.  At one point I entered the living room to find Karen lying on her back on the breakfast bar with her legs in the air.  When I enquired as to what she was doing she told me she was "making some tea, tea is the answer to everything."  In my drunken state, that seemed quite sensible.

On the last day there was no sunshine over Los Gigantes and as Karen was a sun worshipper & the driver of the hire car, she demanded we put our cases in the boot and head off in search of sun.  The sun, unfortunately, was shining brightly on Playa de las Americas and that's where we ended up.  My idea of holidaying abroad is for the feel of the place, the locals, the local food & drink, everything that makes that country different to 'home'.  But what I do not want is the whole ridiculous 'Brits abroad' culture of burger & chips, union jacks & 'English' pubs and I actively avoid anything which has the word 'British' anywhere near it, I can get all the British I want back at home!  Playa de las Americas turned out to be everything I hate!
So, sitting on a packed beach with typical 'Brits' and eating a McDonald's for lunch having spent the week eating gorgeous Spanish food wasn't my idea of a good laugh and I was feeling decidedly grumpy!

Our flight wasn't until late so come evening time we managed to find a Spanish restaurant to eat in which made for a happier & less grumpy Gill!  Everything was groovy until my bag started to leak so I rushed off to find the loo.  And find it I did.  It was a pokey, dirty room the size of a wardrobe with a toilet but no sink.
I looked around, the toilet was disgustingly dirty as was the floor, so much so that I didn't want to sit down or touch anything, if I'd been able to hover I would have done.
But time was against me and I had to get my bag changed so I somehow managed to prop myself against the corner of the wall and the door putting as little of my being on any surface as I could and once balanced I changed my bag standing on tip-toes (not easy with my feet). I was like some sort of crazed ninja, hands going everywhere and as little as possible touching the surfaces, then I got out of there as quickly as possible before I actually stuck to the floor - eeeuuuurrrgggghhh **shudder**

Tenerife-ey  1999

On 11th June 1999 the 3 of us again headed of to the Apartmentos Poblado in Los Gigantes on Tenerife.  Our apartment was in the main block this time and didn't overlook the harbour - booooo.  The views of the harbour and the pool/natural pool were as lovely as last year though and we spent the first few days sunbathing, eating, drinking & having a good old laugh.

This year Melanie had brought along her driving licence as Karen really just liked lying in the sun and didn't really want to be off doing day trips, I couldn't drive the hire car as it wasn't an automatic so it fell to Mel to be chauffeur.
So on our 4th day Mel and I went off in the car armed with a map and my blue parking badge.  We had a lovely couple of hours driving round the island, stopping for something to eat and eventually parking up in the town of La Oratava, where everyone seemed to be preparing for the festival of Corpus Christi tomorrow.

The town hall in La Oratava where they were getting ready for the festival.  That 'drawing' on the floor was made of sand, we watched some of the artists creating floor art, verrrry clever.







Back on the road and with me navigating Mel thought herself brave enough to try a Tenerifian motorway and we approached the slip road.  We discovered that Tenerife slip roads are roughly about the length of a car (eeeeeekk!) and a small car at that, which we weren't expecting at all.  Neither was the lorry which we almost disappeared under as we entered the motorway.  He wasn't for moving over and we didn't have the time to stop.  With a fair bit of eventually breaking by him and Mel's clever swerving we eventually arrived on the motorway snugly positioned behind him; just.  Mel looked at me and I looked at her.  "How far to the next exit, I don't like this" she said and we came off the motorway never to darken another one during our stay!

Mel having a well deserved rest and drink after her motorway ordeal!!








A couple of days later with Karen still glued to the sunbed and browning nicely Mel and I booked ourselves on another dolphin watching trip which was leaving from the harbour not far from our apartment.  The little boat was full with excited people and as it motored out sea (quite far out as it happened) dolphins were spotted and quite a bit of time was spent 'watching' them.  On the way back to Los Gigantes the boat stopped in Masca Bay so people could get off and swim in the gorgeous blue sea which Mel did.  As it came time to set off again it became apparent that something was wrong and our Captain announced that the boat wouldn't start but it was ok as another boat was coming to tow us.  It became very hot very quickly as when moving the sea breeze cools the heat of the sun but sitting out here in the middle of the ocean we were very quickly aware of the heat.
The rescue boat arrived in due course and towed us back to the harbour.

Back in Los Gigantes as we pulled up along side the harbour wall I realised we had a problem.  When we'd got on the boat it had been level with the harbour but now as we'd been severely delayed getting back the tides had changed and the boat was about 1 foot lower than the path.  I told Mel that I wasn't sure how I was going to get off so we decided to hang back til last.

Look how far down the boat is!!!









We watched two strapping Spanish men reaching down and helping the passengers by hoiking them out.  I knew I wouldn't be able to do the same as I didn't have the leg power to help & thought myself too heavy to be 'hoiked' and I'd be mortified if someone had to wedge their hands under my bottom and push me!
When it came to our turn, I went first and told Mel that under no circumstances was anyone to push from below.  I explained best I could to the Spaniards and I think they understood so they ushered another man over, a very, very good looking younger man with shoulder length hair and lovely looks.
Great now I had to ungainly get off a boat with a stunning bloke watching.  He instructed me through a kind of broken Spang-Lish to hold the backs of his upper arms tightly which I did and he held the back of mine too and the other 2 guys held on to him.  I was mortified to see we were attracting a little crowd of people, most of whom were offering help but I bet were secretly itching to see us all land in a heap in the boat.  The gorgeous Spaniard looked right into my eyes, tightened his grip on my arms and said "1, 2, 3 - aley! aley!" and started to pull me and up I went.
Oh no!  Half way up my hands started to slip down his arms so I did the only thing I could, I dug my nails into the backs of his arms to keep a grip and he finally pulled me out but he had a sort of twisted, pained expression on his face although he was trying to smile politely as I thanked him for his help.  He couldn't speak, bless 'im, he  just kept nodding and backing away!
Mel & I laughed all the way back to Karen who said she hadn't realised we'd been gone so long and when we explained all about our excellent adventures, she just lay back down, put her sunglasses on and called us a 'bloody shower'.  We ordered cocktails!

That night we had a last gorgeous meal at one of our favourite restaurants down on the harbour and then Karen drove us to the airport for our late flight home.

The next installment... I start my love affair with Greece....

Creatinine V Salt

When I was little I was in and out of hospital for countless out-patient appointments and up until this year I'd had 20+ operations (I seem to have lost track of the exact number.)
A few years ago the Urologist specialist I saw at The Middlesex Hospital in London mentioned an op they wanted to do but decided "we'd rather not operate on you until we absolutely have no other choice, because of the implications of complications".

But this April, as everyone knows, I had my knee replacement operation; an 2 hour op during which I was under a heady cocktail of anesthetics and it seems that is where the complications can arise.
Now I thought these 'implications of complications' were a lot more sinister than they turned out to be.  I feared the worst as most people might do, so I wrote my will and gave Hari funeral instructions before going in to hospital.  But it turns that it's about keeping the balance between my kidneys, heart, blood pressure & kidney function right and it's a fine art.
So everything seemed ok when I went in, I came through the op but it was a couple of days after that a doctor wearing a confused look was standing at my bed-side, looking at my chart and then looking at me and tutting ever so slightly and requesting more IV fluid (ohhhh... if only it had been rum!)

Anyway.... it seemed the problem was my levels of creatinine, which had been relatively normal (normal being 0.5 to 1.1 milligrams per deciliter - yep I don't know what that means either) when I'd gone into hospital but after the anesthetic my levels had rocketed.
Now, I'm no expert but what I believe is this - Creatinine is produced from creatine, a molecule of major importance for energy production in muscles.  Approx 2% of the body's creatine is converted to creatinine every day.  Creatinine is transported through the bloodstream to the kidneys.  The kidneys filter out most of the creatinine and dispose of it in the urine.   Creatinine has been found to be a fairly reliable indicator of kidney function. Elevated creatinine level signifies impaired kidney function or kidney disease.  So, the level in the blood will rise due to poor clearance.  
http://www.medicinenet.com/creatinine_blood_test/article.htm#what_is_creatinine

When I went in my level was at 188 to rose to 288 when I left hospital.  My blood pressure medication was chopped and changed while I was in to so to me it seemed quite plausible that everything had gone a bit haywire after the traumatic experience of the op etc.
Since April I've visited my lovely GP regularly and the equally as lovely nurse at the surgery for blood tests, followed by results, followed by changing BP doses, followed by blood test, followed by results etc... you get my drift until everything leveled out.
The result of which has been that I have now had my atenalol dose doubled and my ramipril dose lowered which means that my creatinine levels have stabilised and so has my blood pressure. Phew!  And breathe....

Yesterday I had my review at the Nephrology clinic at the hospital to see the lovely Dr Venning on the request of my GP.  He spent a while reading through my file, looking for results, asking questions etc and then had a look at my ankles and my neck, that bit always amuses me but I guess he knows what he's looking for.
The long and short of that appointment was I have to stay on the BP medication I'm on but he's introducing a new one which will help reduce the amount of water I'm retaining which makes my legs/ankles puffy.  He's putting me on new medication for my re-occuring water infections, I've to have a blood test every 6 weeks and I've to take my own blood pressure every week at home and keep a record and I have to go back and see him in December.

But the biggie is - he also said I had to cut salt out of my diet.  This didn't seem too big a deal when he said it as part of a conversation, but have had 24 hours to think about it and do a bit of packaging reading boy/browsing on tinternet, its going to be tricky!
For example - last night for my tea I decided to have a bacon, lettuce, tomato & mayonnaise butty.  The bread, mayo, butter & bacon all had salt in!  This morning I had coco-pops (well, the Aldi cheapie equivalent) and they also have salt in, which started me on a rampage through my kitchen cupboards and everything in jars, packets, boxes, bags - it all has salt in it even the sweet stuff!  It's bloomin well everywhere.

So my mission as I see it now is a challenging one.  I have to actively look at packaging details when I go shopping to make sure processed/package foods have little or no sodium.  I'm going to acquire a breadmaker so I can do away with white warbies and make a nice granary.  Butter will have to go in favour or a low salt Flora or some such monstrosity.  Luckily I don't salt veg when I cook, preferring to leave it to whoever is eating it to add it if they require, we don't eat ready meals anymore and I don't buy a lot of processed foods, preferring to cook meals from scratch myself.
But rather than seeing it is a baaaad thing I am determined to look at it as a challenge, a positive step for healthier kidneys & blood pressure and thinner legs/ankles!

Plus to leave you on a high, rum doesn't contain salt.  All hail the rum!